Wammy's Asylum
by HEARTxOFxTHExSTORM
Summary: AU: What happens when Matt decides to break out and take his chances on the street? Will Mello be there to save him, or will he be left alone? Currently working on rewriting and adding new chapters!
1. Chapter 1

Matt threw himself down onto the stiff plastic mattress, ignoring the pain that traveled up his back. The marks the Director left still needed time to heal, but Matt didn't care. This was practically routine after all.

Instead the ginger haired boy leaned over and dug around under the bed for his last pack of cigarettes. If one of the nurses caught him he'd receive more than just a few blows, but it seemed worth it; the relief the nicotine brought to his tired muscles seemed more than worth the risk.

Matt watched through orange-tinted eyes as the smoke curled up towards the dank and sinking celiling. If only he could turn into smoke; maybe he'd stand a chance of getting out of this dump. But only one person had ever made it out, and that boy was long gone by now.

Yes, his old roommate, a particularly stubborn boy named Mello, had made an escape worthy of the papers a few months back. Matt still felt a hint of betrayl every time the fiery blonde crossed his mind, but he supposed it couldn't be helped. If Mello had tried to take him with, they both would've been caught.

Still, Matt thought, with a smoke-filled sigh, this asylum was evil. But what could he do? He was only one boy, one sick, crazy boy, as the Director constantly reminded him. What could he possibly do? His fate was out of his hands.

He wasn't like Mello. Mello was a force to be reckoned with. Anything that boy put his mind to, he could accomplish. Mello was special. Matt was just…just Matt. Useless, unwanted, Matt.

* * *

Back on the street, Mello was getting ready to meet his latest client. It was raining as he trudged toward the usual club, and his leather pants were clinging to his skinny frame. He suppressed a shiver as he opened the door, the cool club air engulfing him. He had to keep his head tonight. His next meal depended on this.

The music blared around him, but he hardly noticed. He had already gone to the safe place within himself. It was his last defense from what he was about to do. He found his client at the bar, already half drunk. Mello hoped to a god he no longer believed in that he wasn't a mean drunk. He still had scars from his last bad experience…

With a curt nod, he lead the middle-aged man to the back room reserved for this purpose, for sins this unforgivable. The cross his mother had given him, the only thing she had ever given him, felt hot against his chest as if it were burning a hole through him. Maybe it was. Maybe that was his punishment. Still, he refused to take it off.

Mello shed his clothes slowly, his attention on his client. He had to be good or he wouldn't be paid. Mello pleased the man as best he could, but in the end he was left on a dirty mattress, with dirty money, feeling tainted.


	2. Chapter 2

Matt awoke to muffled screams from the next room. The noise rose and fell, like waves, carried through the vents, through the cheap plaster walls. He sighed, rolling over onto his side.

Near was at it again. The boy was like an alarm clock; at the same time every day he would start his fits. It was enough to drive anyone crazy. (_Well_, Matt thought with a dry laugh, _crazier_.)

There was the sudden sound of footsteps outside his door and Matt sat up in bed, glancing toward the only exit. There was the sound of a lock being turned and his door swung open, revealing one of the so-called nurses.

This one looked to be about forty, her graying hair tied in a messy bun behind her head, as if she hadn't bothered to look into a mirror. "Breakfast time," was all she said as she ushered him with her eyes out the door.

Matt got up, thanking the Lord that he had fallen asleep in his clothes from yesterday. Some days the nurses would stay and watch him pull on his boxers with a kind of hunger that made his stomach drop to his knees in shame.

As he made his way down the long hallway with doors on both sides where he knew others like him lived, he couldn't help but be aware of the sounds of anguish that radiated through the very air. Moans and cries penetrated the silence and, even though Matt knew he was considered one of them, it still made his skin crawl.

He took his place at his usual table in the corner. It was a place where he could be alone, while watching the others. He liked to watch the others eat; it was one of his few forms of entertainment here. As the other patients trickled in, Matt played with what passed here as soup, watching them with a curious eye.

* * *

Mello awoke to the sound of voices. They echoed off the walls, flew past him, surrounded him. He raised his head wearily, glancing around before sitting up in the pew.

At first he was confused—how did he get here, and where was _here_ anyway? But then he remembered the night before; the client, the money, and the long trek back to the Church where he'd been sleeping.

He wasn't supposed to be here; in fact he was quite sure it wasn't legal. But he had yet to be caught, so he figured it was alright. As if mocking his last thoughts, a man dressed in black, the Father, Mello presumed, walked up to him, a tight look on his face.

"Good morning, my son. What brings you here this fine day?" Mello, still paralyzed from the night before, took a moment to answer.

"Uh, praying, Father. Isn't that what one does in a Church?" The man smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Of course. What I meant was aren't you just a bit too young to be at church alone?" Mello shook his head, dirty blonde strands falling into his eyes. God, he must look awful, he thought, stomach sinking.

"I'm just…"

But at that moment he heard sirens outside. His eyes widened in realization. He had heard two men before, which meant one of them could have called the…Panic flooded through him as he jumped to his feet. The Father tried to grab his arm, but Mello bolted, running through the church.

Somewhere behind him he could hear the Father's booming voice asking him to wait, but he didn't listen, he couldn't. He knew where they would send him if he was caught, and he wasn't going back there, not ever. He'd slit his wrists before he let them drag him back.

He burst through the back room where the Father's office was, looked around wildly, found a door, and kept going. Even when he miraculously found the street again, he didn't stop running. Even when his lungs burned and his feet ached, he never stopped running.


	3. Chapter 3

Matt watched one table of patients with a particularly curious eye. Near, his roommate before Mello, sat there, with the twins L and B, and another boy named Light. Matt knew Near showed signs of what the doctors called "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" amongst other things, but L and B were a mystery to him.

Light, Matt knew from a very awkward conversation, was schizophrenic and suffering from delusions and Multiple-Personality Disorder. As far as Matt knew, the boy thought his name was Kira.

They sat around, half-eating their food, half playing with the lumpy porridge. Only B seemed happy to be eating it. He spooned great globs of it into his mouth, letting it trickle out at the corners of his sneering lips. It gave Matt the creeps.

L, on the other hand, seemed to be trying to talk to Light, while Near sat quietly, eyes downcast. Matt knew that Near didn't talk much, if at all. It had made sharing a room with him all the more awkward. Of course, at that time Near didn't do anything except huddle in a corner. He had ignored the bed completely and Matt, too shy to protest, had just left him there.

Shaken out of his reverie by movement, Matt noticed L coming towards him. Matt stiffened, trying to decide where the best place to hide was, but L was already upon him. Reaching out a skeletal hand and taking a seat (if what he did could be called sitting) opposite Matt, he smiled at the boy, but it was a smile that sent shivers up Matt's spine.

"Hello, Matt." They didn't need introductions. The two were in the same therapy group, they saw each other every day.

"…L…"

"How are we this morning?" L asked, his voice a deep baritone.

"…Tired…" _And sore, and scared_, Matt thought to himself.

"I couldn't help but notice you watching us." Matt's heart hammered in his chest. He didn't want any trouble…

"Sorry, sorry…! I was just…It was…" L cut him off with a wave of his arm.

"Relax, I'm not mad." He was calculated Matt with wide owl-like eyes. "I wonder, would you care to join us?" Matt shook his head hard, backing away into the wall.

"No, I…um, I…I gotta go," he mumbled, pushing past L, and heading back to his room, the only place where he felt somewhat safe.

* * *

Mello skidded to a stop, his body aching. He ducked behind the familiar brick alley that lead to the club. Leaning against the cool wall, he caught his breathe in gasps, clutching at a stitch in his side. A shiver passed through him. _That was to close_, he thought angrily, slamming a fist into the wall and ignoring the pain that rose up his hand.

Mello sighed and headed further into the alleyway. The club gleamed like a beacon in the night and Mello followed it like a moth to the flame. Stepping inside, Mello took a seat in the back. He figured he'd be safe here, at least for the time being. He never expected the (rather attractive) dark-haired boy at the bar to sit down beside him.

With a smile that could melt ice, the boy, not much older than Mello's seventeen years, held out his hand. "Hey," he purred, "I'm Zak."

* * *

AN: Yes, Zak is a Death Note character. He's part of the mafia. His real name is Zakk Irius. But I shall make him my own. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Mat sighed when he got back to the safety of his room. Even though he wasn't allowed to close the door until meal time was over, people rarely intruding on each other's personal spaces here. Rooms, for the most part, were safe.

He sunk on to his bed, curling in on himself. A part of him wanted so badly to have someone comfort him, to tell him that everything would be okay. That used to be Mello's job, back when he was still around.

Matt could remember the blonde holding him in the middle of the night, promising him that one day they'd get away together. Together…so much for that now, Matt thought bitterly. Mello, wherever he was, had to be better off than Matt was here.

* * *

Mello looked the older teen up and down slowly, a little unsure. Finally he accepted the stranger's hand. The dark haired boy's smile grew when Mello told him his name.

"You look a little lost. Let me buy you a drink," the brunette purred in a way that made goosebumps rise on Mello's skin.

"But…I'm not old enough…" Mello began, but Zak cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Please, like they care. I practically own the place." He left for the bar and came back a few minutes later with two glasses full of dark liquid. Mello sipped his slowly, winced, and swallowed. Zak laughed. "Not used to the good stuff, eh? Don't worry. I can change that." Mello measured Zak slowly, wondering what the hell this kid wanted in the first place.

"Um, look. I don't know who you are, or why you're doing this, but uh…"

"I need a new partner." Mello blinked, not catching on. Zak sighed.

"I've seen you around here. You sell yourself, right?" Mello choked on his drink. When he finally caught his breath, he asked, "H-how do you….?" Zak just grinned.

"Like I said, I practically own the place. Now look…prostitution will only get you so far. The real moneys in the drug ring. And like I said, I'm looking for a new partner. You in?" Mello opened and closed his mouth several times before answering.

"You…you barely know me…I…" Zak just leaned forward, using a finger to lift the hair out of Mello's face and tuck it behind his ear.

"I see a lot of potential in you, Mello. I can promise you food, shelter, and an interesting life, to say the least. What do you say?" Mello bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn't keep living in old churches and alleys, squandering and begging for food for the rest of his life…and really, what did he have to lose? Mello held out his hand.

"I say you got yourself a deal."


	5. Chapter 5

"Matt?" Matsuda looked at him with just a hint of concern in his wide dark eyes. "Is there anything you'd like to talk about today?"

Matt shrunk back in his seat as all the eyes in the room turned to him. He shook his head fiercely, red hair flying into his eyes. Matsuda sighed, but turned his attention on another patient instead.

Matt relaxed a bit, now that the focus was off him. He could remember what it was like when Mello had escaped, how everyone wanted to interview _him_. It had been a time of pure hell. Not only had he lost his best (not to mention only) friend, but he had also been at the center of attention for weeks.

But he never talked, not even a little about Mello's plan, mostly because he knew so little of it. Mello hadn't confided in anyone, he had simply up and disappeared one day. But even if Matt had known, he wouldn't have told anyone. He didn't know why, exactly, but Mello was someone he wanted to protect, no matter what.

With a start, Matt felt someone watching him. He turned to find L staring at him with those owlish eyes of his and paled. It was almost like L could tell what he was thinking. But that was impossible, wasn't it…?

* * *

Mello shivered in the cold of the alley, the breeze numbing his sleeveless skin. He couldn't afford a coat, though Zak had promised all that would change soon. All he knew was that he was cold, and hungry, and a little scared. But he waited in the shadowed alley like a good boy, the drug money in the back pocket of his tattered jeans.

He had contemplated just taking the money and running, but there was something about Zak, something that was a little scary that kept him from leaving. The kid seemed to have eyes everywhere, and dying was not at the top of Mello's to-do list.

Without warning, a broad, shady looking man entered the alley. He was tall, much taller than Mello, and had a complexion that made him look a little sick. Addict, Mello figured, as the man approached. He looked like he was forty, though he couldn't have been more than twenty-five. It gave Mello the creeps, but he suppressed a shudder as best he could.

"You Zak's boy?" The man asked in a gruff sort of voice. Mello nodded mutely. "You got my money?" Mello held out the wad of bills. The man nodded, grabbed them, and thumbed through them quickly, as if this was routine. Hell, Mello thought, it probably was. He reached into his pocket and gave Mello a fair sized bag full of white powder. He looked at Mello expectantly, but Mello had no idea what he was waiting for. Finally the man sighed, and said, "Look, are you gonna test it or not?". Mello started and it took him a moment to find his voice.

"Um…that's not really…I'm just here to pay…" The man snorted.

"Whatever you say, kid. Whatever you say." And without another word, he turned and disappeared into the streets. Mello looked at the powder in the bag before pocketing it and making his way back to the abandoned factory that Zak called the 'Base'.

* * *

AN: So things are getting more interesting! I feel the need to apologize for taking so freaking long to update, but now that i have an idea where i'm going with this, it shouldn't take nearly as long. ^^ Thanks for sticking with me!

-Sarah


	6. Author's Note

**Because F F dot NET is censoring stories, I will no longer be using this site. I have a A03 account you can find me at (heart_of_the_storm). I will transfer all my stories over there and post new ones there as well. It was lovely meeting you all here and I hope to hear from you at A03.**

**Much love,**

**Sahara**

**Homepage**: archiveofourown dot org/users/heart_of_the_storm


End file.
